Compromising Positions
by the Prince's Jewel
Summary: One little wish gets changed. Now, what to do with Frieza's remaining henchmen? More importantly, who do they wind up with?
1. Chapter 1

Author Notes: It's AU. I changed one little wish just a tiny, tiny bit. Oh, it's also yaoi, although I'm not entirely sure who I'm gonna have screw who. Also, it is entirely off the wall, so the first bit's gonna seem like I don't care if it reads well or not. It's a tad mite jerky, it is. I intend to let it stay that way, because for once, I want something a bit more comedic than my usual dark fare. And simply because I like 'em that way, male Saiyans can and do, have and probably will get pregnant.

********

"I wish all those on Namek killed by Frieza or his men would be returned to life!"

On Namek, Vegeta finds himself buried. Slightly confused and rather put out, he blasts his way out of his grave. Moments later, he is on the hunt for Frieza and Kakarot. Several miles distant, a very confused Jeice and a even more morbid Zarbon are examining their reflections in the water they know they died near. Satisfied they are still pretty, they set out to find their fellow soldiers. Gordo rises, patting himself all over, wondering just what the hell happened. Burter helps Reecomb to his feet, and they set out to find their captain. Neither has the brains to realize something major just happened. Even further away, Dodoria blasts his way out of the water, spitting in irritation and wondering where the irritating little prince has gotten to. And that nasty thing whose name starts with Q decided to save Vegeta the trouble of killing him again, and died of shock.

"Now bring everyone on Namek except Goku and Frieza here to Earth!"

"GODSBEDAMNEDIT!" a highly irate Vegeta roared.

"EEEK!" Jeice hid behind Burter. "He's here! What's he doing here? Where are we? What happened? Why am I babbling?"

"Shock, probably," replied a familiar silken voice. "Don't irritate the princeling, he's much stronger than you."

"I know that!" Jeice whined. "So why… where… tell me this ain't the afterlife? I don't want him in my afterlife!"

"It isn't the afterlife," a rather cross female voice answered. "This is Earth, you're on my turf now."

Jeice turned. "Oh, ain't you a pretty thing!"

Bulma blinked, then grinned cheekily at the orange warrior. "Of course I am! I am Bulma Briefs, after all!"

"Why the hell are we here?"

"Because Goku said so," Krillin told the Saiyan. His attempt to sound bold failed miserably, and he quailed beneath the glaring dark eyes. "I just don't know why you're here! You're supposed to be…" He gulped and took a very large step backwards.

"Okay, first things first! Who killed who? Why are you guys here? Aren't you the bad guys?" Bulma snapped out her questions quickly. "None of you should have been brought here!"

"Well, I did what Goku said and wished everyone here, Bulma," Krillin reminded her. "So if they were alive, they would have been brought by… um, yeah, shutting up now."

"I believe Vegeta killed most of us," Zarbon informed the blue-haired woman.

"Drat it all, Krillin, you couldn't get one simple wish right?" Bulma rounded on the man, leaving the unexpected visitors to amuse themselves.

Zarbon looked around. "Did you take out the entire Ginyu force, Vegeta? I even see the Captain."

Vegeta snorted. "Kakarot turned him into a frog."

"What?" various members of the Ginyu force shrieked.

"He tried that body changing trick of his, and Kakarot threw a frog in his way." Vegeta cocked a thumb in the direction of the oddly-behaving Ginyu captain's former body. "That's a frog in there. Ginyu's in a frog body."

Reecomb looked rather guiltily at the bottom of his shoe, then carefully wiped the frog guts off of it. No one noticed.

"Vegeta, that boy," Zarbon indicated Gohan, "he is a Saiyan, isn't he? Whose? He seems far too old to be Raditz' get, yet… there are similarities."

Vegeta's eyes narrowed. "It's no concern of yours, Zarbon."

Zarbon played with the end of his braid. "It could be my concern."

"Gah, you bedded that long-haired monkey?" Dodoria snarled. "There weren't enough of them around to suit you, you had to go and breed another one?"

Vegeta's jaw clenched. Gohan, who'd come up to them, blinked at the two oddly colored men in confusion, then tugged on Vegeta's armor. "What's he mean?" His question was ignored as both Saiyans' heads snapped toward the distant planet Namek. A wide smile appeared on Gohan's face. "Knew he could!" he whispered. "Dad's the best!"

Zarbon glanced around again, curiously. His voice tight, he asked, "Where is Frieza?"

Vegeta and Gohan spoke at the same time. "Kakarot…" "My daddy…" They exchanged glares. "Kakarot just killed him."

Zarbon raised an eyebrow. "Oh, good." He ki-blasted Dodoria, watching the oversized warty blob fall with obvious satisfaction. "Now I don't have to deal with that awful talking zit anymore."

Gohan giggled. He'd been around Bulma too long on the ship - he knew all about zits. It didn't take him long to sober, though. "What did the zit man mean about beading…" he frowned, "no, breeding another one?"

"Are you Raditz' son?" Zarbon inquired.

"No."

"Vegeta's?" Zarbon sounded doubtful, and smirked slightly at Vegeta's outraged snort of disgust. "Never mind, obviously not."

"Kakarot is his sire. He's nothing but a half-breed."

"Cute half-breed," Burter said. "C'n I have him to …" Vegeta blew his head off. Jeice gulped, and hid behind Zarbon.

"Yuck. What difference does it make who my daddy is?"

"Raditz was carrying my child." Vegeta boggled disbelievingly. Gohan just frowned and seemed to be lost. "Saiyan males can bear children - Raditz was pregnant."

Gohan's eyes got very big. "Pre… preg… pregnant? Like a mommy?"

"Yes. How old are you?" (a/n: the great question. 4 or 5, depending on which translation you have… I think I'll go with)

"Six." (a/n: because you had the whole trip out to Namek, and not in the 4-day ship that Goku took. So pttthtt!)

"I… he… how?" The boy blinked suddenly. "No, don't answer that. Vegeta, is he telling me true? Can you get pregnant? Can Daddy?"

"Yes," Vegeta answered so tightly that Gohan backed toward Zarbon. "Your father and I can get pregnant, under the right circumstances. I don't know about you, you're half-blood." He glared at Zarbon. "The result of those special training sessions, Zarbon?"

Zarbon shook his head, smacking Jeice in the face with his braid. "Mutual appreciation society, I'm afraid."

"Oh, and I missed it!" Jeice muttered in disgust. "That must have… yeah, shutting up now." Vegeta and Zarbon were both glaring at him.

"Missed what?" Krillin asked, just to get away from Bulma.

"He's a voyeur, and you don't want to know," Vegeta informed him.


	2. Chapter 2

Author Notes: It's AU. I changed one little wish just a tiny, tiny bit. Oh, it's also yaoi, although I'm not entirely sure who I'm gonna have screw who. Also, it is entirely off the wall, so the first bit's gonna seem like I don't care if it reads well or not. It's a tad mite jerky, it is. I intend to let it stay that way, because for once, I want something a bit more comedic than my usual dark fare. And simply because I like 'em that way, male Saiyans can and do, have and probably will get pregnant.

********

Gohan frowned. "Isn't Master Roshi a voyeur?" he asked in confusion. "I heard Bulma call him that once."

"Why don't I want to know?" Krillin demanded, at the same time Bulma said, "He's a pervert, Gohan."

"But what's a pervert?" Gohan demanded as Vegeta answered Krillin with, "He wanted to watch Kakarot's brother rut with the pretty boy there."

"I understood that!" Gohan crowed. A few seconds later, under the combined glares of most of the adults, he'd backed completely into Zarbon, who casually picked him up.

"Vegeta is crass, as usual. I did not rut with Kakarot's brother," he informed the child. "That's what Jeice is for."

"Hey!" an affronted voice complained. "I'm not a fuck-toy! OWWWIEEE!"

Bulma slapped him again. "Watch your language around the children!"

"Why aren't you slapping him?" Jeice whined. "He said it first!"

"So my Uncle Raditz was going to have your baby?" Gohan twisted to see Zarbon more clearly as he asked, and caught the flash of sorrow in his pretty eyes.

"Yes, he was. Or so I thought," Zarbon ended a little bitterly. "Apparently, he was no more willing to have a half-breed child than his prince."

"Vegeta got pregnant?!" Gohan yelped.

Silence. Dead silence, as every single creature looked at the glaring prince. "Put the boy down, Zarbon," Vegeta growled, "so you can answer for your lies."

"I didn't lie. You don't want a half-breed child. He merely misunderstood. Here, Jeice, hold him for me."

"Hey! Wait! I…" Jeice regarded the young Saiyan in his arms in horror. "What am I supposed to do with it!"

"I'm not an it, I'm a boy!" Gohan huffed. "Why do you have old man hair?"

"WHAT!???!" Jeice screeched, effectively disrupting the Vegeta-Zarbon deathmatch-to-be. "I do NOT have OLD MAN hair!"

"It's white," Gohan pointed out helpfully. "Only old men have white hair." Vegeta snickered.

Jeice dropped him. "I hate kids. Hate them, hate them hate them hate them, and especially hate you!" he pouted. "I'm only twenty-four! I'm no old man!"

"Oh, twenty-four?" Bulma purred. "You're the same age as Goku."

"Kakarot is twenty-five, human."

"The name's Bulma, sweet cheeks," Bulma snapped, sending Zarbon and Jeice into silent giggles. "Well, I guess you guys will be staying at my place, there's no one else on this planet with the money to feed that bottomless pit of a Saiyan. That is, if you eat as much as Goku always does."

"Undoubtedly," the surviving members of the Ginyu force, and Zarbon, chimed.

"You can't take them home with you!" Krillin protested.

"Why not? I've always wanted my own pretty boy collection, and most of them qualify." That response had Recoomb scratching his head and looking askance at Gordo. "And it's not like I have to put the ones that don't anywhere in the house that would be anywhere near me. Besides," she put her hands on her hips, "Capsule Corp. is the only place where ships could possibly be made to get them off our world again, and I'd rather have them easily found when a ship is ready, wouldn't you?"

Gohan, feeling rather ignored as the adults burst into excited babble about that, crawled over to curl up by Vegeta's feet. The prince offered him a glare, but didn't kick him away. He didn't, like Zarbon had, pick him up, or do anything much besides issue curt demands that were ignored. After a few minutes of that, Gohan wandered back over to Zarbon, and leaned against his leg.

Zarbon glanced down to see the youngest Saiyan's rather lost-looking expression, just in time for the boy to yawn. He promptly picked the boy up and cradled him against his hip, with a softly muttered, "Sleep, boy, while we finish our talk."

"Mmkay," Gohan muttered sleepily, and promptly started mouthing the end of Zarbon's braid. "What are you doing?"

"Mommy says big boys don't suck their thumbs," the little boy whispered, making Zarbon realize just how close to his mouth the child's thumb was, and how well hidden that fact was by his braid. He smiled slightly, and tickled the Saiyan's chin with the end.

"Go ahead, child. You're young enough to still need a comfort." It wasn't long before the tiny bundle of muscle relaxed against him, snoring softly, Zarbon's braid in his mouth as a replacement for the missing tail he'd be suckling if he still had it. "Vegeta?"

"What?" Vegeta shot a look at him, then glared. "Why do you have that boy again?"

"He likes my braid." The taller man shifted so Vegeta could see more clearly, and saw the shock that momentarily lightened the scowl. "What do you know of this boy's mother?" he asked, moving closer to the other compact bundle of muscles so they could speak more privately. Jeice, fully involved in a shouting match with Bulma and Krillin, failed to follow.

"She's human." Zarbon waited; Vegeta glared at him.

"That is all you know?"

"Yes."

"Do you know what happened to the child's tail?"

Vegeta sent a hateful look at the boy's tailless backside, and a more hateful look at his braid-filled mouth. "No doubt the humans removed it to prevent him from going oozaru, as they did Kakarot's and mine."

"Kakarot allowed this?"

Vegeta growled. "He actively participated in ensuring the removal of mine! He has no memory of what it is to be Saiyan!"

Zarbon had no difficulty imagining Vegeta with his tail lashing in anger: He'd seen that more than once, after all. He shot a quick look behind him. "Perhaps it would be best if you took the boy now, and vanished?" he suggested.

"When the woman is offering what she is?" Vegeta countered sharply. "Why give up that up to train a third-class warrior's half-blood brat? The boy's father isn't dead: let him train the brat."

Zarbon looked down at the demi-Saiyan curled so trustingly against him, considering his options. Vegeta had beaten him, Frieza had beaten Vegeta, and the boy's father had beaten Frieza. The boy wasn't his concern, since he wasn't Raditz' cub, but the idea of sending the child back to a family that denied him his heritage galled. It was too like his own childhood. A tiny smile quirked his lips. Frieza, oddly enough, had been annoyed he knew little of his heritage, and had been the one to teach him his people's history and customs. It had been Frieza, not his father, who had presented him with the headband and earrings that had marked his coming of age.

But Frieza was dead. The boy's father had killed him, and the man apparently cared nothing for his people's heritage. The prince had no wish to teach the child, and he himself had only a partial understanding of what had been a truly complex people. And, as the short, irritable man in front of him had mentioned, the boy was a half-breed. He was at least learning his mother's culture.

"Miss, if you would, the child has fallen asleep. Do you know how to contact his mother? He should go home."

"Oh, sure!" The blue-haired woman whipped out a phone as the boy was plucked from Zarbon's arms. The Namek gave him a rather indecipherable look, then took off with the boy.

"Ah, never mind. It seems that one will be taking him home."

"Eh? Oh, okay." She flipped the phone closed. "All right, then. You guys can all load up in the air van. Housing's all arranged, and we'll get you a new place as soon as the dragon balls are back."

Zarbon filed dutifully into the strange conveyance, and was shortly with a lapful of Jeice. "That woman's scary. She gives Frieza a run for his money in scary," the man confided. "Did you see the way she looked at you, though?"

"She saw my transformation," Zarbon replied curtly, and shut Jeice up in the easiest possible manner. The Nameks around them drew back with sounds of dismayed shock. Vegeta, across from them, only snorted with snide amusement. "Something funny, Vegeta?"

"Prince Vegeta, to you, and yes."

Vegeta was stronger than he now. He kept that thought in mind. "My prince, what has amused you?"

"The amount of drool that woman produced when she saw you kiss him."

Zarbon groaned.


	3. Chapter 3

Author Notes: It's AU. I changed one little wish just a tiny, tiny bit. Oh, it's also yaoi, although I'm not entirely sure who I'm gonna have screw who. Also, it is entirely off the wall, so the first bit's gonna seem like I don't care if it reads well or not. It's a tad mite jerky, it is. I intend to let it stay that way, because for once, I want something a bit more comedic than my usual dark fare. And simply because I like 'em that way, male Saiyans can and do, have and probably will get pregnant.

********

It was sheer desperation that drove Zarbon to transforming to his abhorred ugly form after the second month. He couldn't stand the blue-haired woman, and she wouldn't leave him be. He didn't understand how Vegeta and Jeice tolerated her so easily. That was, he didn't understand until he realized how just like a female Saiyan the woman was, aside from her physical weakness; and just how much of an attention whore Jeice actually was. He found her atrocious, so took the extreme measure he did, and avoided mirrors as much as possible. To his relief, he found that the woman didn't pester him nearly as much. In fact, after a month, she moved him to stay with the uglies.

He reverted immediately, of course, and checked to see if his extended transformation had caused any imperfections. A long bath assured him his skin was still soft, supple, and smooth. He found no horrid discolorations, though that required quite a bit of twisting in front of a mirror. His hair had grown out, but after trimming up a few split ends, he was satisfied that it had come through fairly unscathed.

The next four days he spent ensuring his prettiness with oils and lotions, and the most delicate use of the makeup he'd discovered on one of his earlier shopping trips. The next three were spent shopping. The next two weeks were spent recovering from finding Recoomb and Gordo having sexual relations, but when he found them a second time, with the frog in the former Captain Ginyu's body, he got as far from Capsule Corporation as he could without leaving the planet.

Which was how he found himself on the opposite side of the world, watching the youngest of the Saiyan race play with a dinosaur. "That boy is decidedly the strangest Saiyan I have ever seen," he mused quietly to the green man who'd just landed behind him.

"Why are you here?"

Zarbon shuddered. "Please, don't ask. I'm trying not to remember why I'm here. Some things… should never be seen."

The Namek grunted, and joined him in Saiyan-watching. Eventually, the Namek went down and began training with the boy. Zarbon watched that for awhile, before deciding it was safe to return home. He found Jeice in his bed, babbling about the very thing he'd gone off to forget about, and set about hazing it out of both of their minds with blissful pleasure.

When he woke up and found the woman had joined them in _his_ bed, he fled. Locked himself in Vegeta's special gravity chamber, and refused to come out. Even remembering that Vegeta had already killed him once, when the prince threatened to destroy him if he didn't get out of his training room immediately, didn't convince him to unlock the door. Vegeta playing with the remote control for the gravity finally wore him down. He escaped when the gravity went back to 50 times normal, grabbed his things from his room before Bulma or Vegeta realized he'd left the gravity room, and went to find himself somewhere more pleasant to live.

Forty-seven sleazy old men and more women than he wanted to remember - not to mention all the strange creature people - later, he finally found a relatively empty stretch of land that had an ever-so-convenient cave located dead center. That, he turned into a makeshift shelter until he found a more appropriate spot to set up the capsule house he'd liberated. By the end of the week he was bored out of his mind and considering some of the earlier offers from the sleazy old men.

"I must be going out of my mind," he shuddered. "There has to be something here to occupy my time…." And so began a much more thorough search of all the cabinets and closets.

*x*x*

Two months of extreme boredom later found him on the hill, watching the Saiyan half-breed again. He'd had plenty of time to think, and had decided that regardless of what Vegeta thought of the child's half-breed status, the child deserved to learn what he could of the Saiyan culture. Zarbon couldn't pass on as much information about the Saiyans as Frieza had taught him of his own people, but it just didn't sit right with him that the child grow up totally ignorant of half of his heritage.

Besides, he was Raditz' nephew, and that made him family. After all, his unborn child would have been this boy's cousin. Perhaps he would even pass on his own cultural heritage?

"Why are you back?"

Zarbon watched the child play with the dinosaur. "I see his tail has returned."

"Answer the question, blue-boy."

Zarbon pursed his lips thoughtfully. "You are training him to fight. I wish to teach him what I know of his father's people," he answered at last. "It seems a shame for him to remain ignorant of the culture and heritage of the Saiyans."

A noncommittal grunt. Zarbon frowned. "His strength and his tail come from them, as well as his ability to transform under the full moon. It would be a gross injustice for him to remain utterly ignorant of… precautions and safety measures that can be taken."

"Transform?" Piccolo asked sharply.

"You weren't aware that tailed Saiyans transform into were-apes when they see a full moon?" Zarbon twisted half-around to regard the Namek incredulously. "Without proper training, they basically become mindless killing machines. That is why they were so useful to Frieza for planet purges."

"Can you train him?"

Zarbon sighed. "I can teach him the basics, but Vegeta is the only one who can train him. He will have to regrow his own tail before he will be able to train the boy, and it seems the regrowth…." He realized he was talking to air, and that the boy's tail was no longer connected to his backside. So, the Namek was not willing to take the risk of the boy transforming.

And wasn't it odd that he could feel tears slipping down his cheeks as the boy's indignant, pained squawks became squeaky agreements and vigorous nodding. He felt more bereft over the loss of the child's tail than the boy himself, and flushed with shame that the boy would so easily consent to its removal whenever it grew back.

Perhaps the boy didn't deserve to learn of his uncle's people after all?

He hastily dried his eyes as the two approached, still more intent on their conversation than on himself. He greeted the child - what was the boy's name again? - with a gentle smile. "Hello, little one."

"My name's Gohan."

"I am Zarbon." Having had the doubts, he put forth a question. "Gohan, shall I teach you what I know of your father's people?"

"You mean Sains?"

"Saiyans," Zarbon corrected, "and yes, the Saiyans were… are you father's people."

The boy shook his head firmly. "Daddy's an Earthling, he told Uncle Raditz so. So that means I'm an Earthling too, and Mommy makes me do enough schoolwork!"

He looked away, feeling his eyes become hot and heavy with additional tears he would not shed. Yet. "So, your father did not acknowledge his people?"

"No." The boy crawled into his lap, and began playing with the jeweled band that kept his braid together. "He told Uncle Raditz that he didn't have a brother, but Raditz kept telling me he was my uncle anyway."

"What is your father's name, child? I don't recall."

"Goku."

Most assuredly, not a Saiyan name. He nodded, simply cradling the boy until the child tired of playing with his hair, got up, and ran back down to play with the dinosaur.

"When do you plan to give him lessons?"

Zarbon rose slowly, turning to face the green man. "I will not begin until he is ready to learn." With that, he took off towards his home, and the boring, routine life he'd learned to live.


	4. Chapter 4

Author Notes: It's AU. I changed one little wish just a tiny, tiny bit. Oh, it's also yaoi, although I'm not entirely sure who I'm gonna have screw who. Also, it is entirely off the wall, so the first bit's gonna seem like I don't care if it reads well or not. It's a tad mite jerky, it is. I intend to let it stay that way, because for once, I want something a bit more comedic than my usual dark fare. And simply because I like 'em that way, male Saiyans can and do, have and probably will get pregnant.

********

Jeice wandered the halls of Capsule Corp. Vegeta was - imagine this! - training. Again. Or possibly still He wasn't sure and didn't really care, since he wasn't exactly over Vegeta having killed him yet. Still, the grumpy prince was a lot better company than the remains of the Ginyu Force.

He stopped dead in the middle of the hall and began pulling his hair. That image just _would not_ go away. And Zarbon had vanished off someplace months ago, and his scouter was broke, so he couldn't find the that particular beauty to fuck him senseless again. It wasn't _fair_! Course, it wasn't like he wasn't getting laid. An image of a naked blue-haired woman super-imposed itself over the traumatic Ginyu remnant fuckfest, much to his relief. Maybe Bulma wasn't in her lab, and would be up for some fun.

Jeice turned abruptly and went back the way he had come. Possibly, possibly… and what the hell was that idiot doing? He watched as Bulma's so-called boyfriend peeked through the windows of Vegeta's training center. Hmm… if he was that interested in the little prince, maybe…? After all, he wanted to be fucked senseless, not to fuck someone else senseless.

Except, there was that weird floating cat shape-shifting thing. Jeice still wasn't sure if it was male or female, but he had the funny feeling it was Yamcha's most frequent bed partner. Probably, he smirked, in Vegeta's form, as often as he'd caught the guy watching the surly Saiyan. AH-HA! Revenge is sweet! He reversed directions again.

This time, thankfully, there was no sex being performed, and Gordo was covered. Jeice wandered in casually. "Hey, Gordo? You remember Vegeta getting it on with any guys on the ship?"

"He's not interested in males, Jeice, you know that."

"Really?" Jeice faked surprise. "But that Yamcha guy seems to be seeing him pretty regularly." A little snort. "He won't even let Vegeta train without keeping an eye on him."

"Oo? Really?"

Hook, line, sinker. Jeice nodded. "Yeah, he was just watching him train a bit ago. I bet if you go looking, you'll find them together."

"I might just do that."

Jeice left him laughing at the scene he expected to witness, and went on hunting for a suitable fuck buddy. Yamcha was a possibility, but not until after he'd had his little joke. He heard the gravity room power down, and went to investigate. Yep, Gordo'd beat him there.

The prince looked from one to the other, eyes narrowing. He shoved past Yamcha, knocking the human on his ass. "Now, Vegeta, is that any way to treat your lover boy?"

Yamcha's jaw dropped, but his eyes focused on the skin-tight pants covering Vegeta's ass as the prince stopped. Slowly, the Saiyan looked over his shoulder, and hissed, "What did you say, vermin?"

Jeice was quite certain Gordo couldn't see the energy attack beginning to glow in Vegeta's hand, and this was proven when Gordo was foolish enough to open his mouth. "I suppose you wanted to be sure his ass was sore instead of yours for awhile, tehehe."

Yamcha was still staring at Vegeta's ass when Gordo's brains splattered the wall behind him. Jeice smiled cheerfully, and strolled onto the scene, diverting Yamcha's gaze to his equally well-outlined groin. "Really, Vegeta, clean up the mess… oh, never mind, I'll take care of it." He vaporized what was left of Gordo, making sure to do a little thrust with his hips as he turned to tend the mess. "Bunny was mixing up chocolate cakes earlier, I imagine one of them is done by now."

"Chocolate cake?"

"If you hurry, Recoomb won't have eaten it all by the time you get there." Jeice sauntered up to the fallen human as Vegeta hurried off. "I wonder where Gordo got the idea you were fucking Vegeta?" Yamcha's eyes went wide as Jeice slanted a quick glance at a suddenly red-faced Puar. Jeice's grin hit the megawatt level as he realized his guess had been right. Smoothly, he continued, "After all, everyone knows he's only interested in girls."

"Um, yeah, of course." Yamcha took the hand Jeice held out to him, and the smaller man pulled him to his feet - straight into himself. There were days Jeice hated being short, but being able to dip his head and lick the taller man's navel before he could be stopped wasn't a bad thing. Especially if it got him laid.

"So, you done training? Or ready for a different kind of training?" the cocky mutant asked, blatantly fondling the bulge hidden in Yamcha's loose pants.

"Different. Kind?" Yamcha squeaked.

"Pushups," Jeice suggested with a light squeeze. "Lots of pushups." A stroke. "Bareback riding, perhaps?"

Yamcha groaned, and nodded. "Sounds… like fun. Where?"

"Oddly enough, the training room seems to be available."

"Okay."

Within moments, they were busily desecrating Vegeta's sacred gravity room. They left behind a mess, having enjoyed themselves on the control panel - until Yamcha had accidentally upped the gravity too far - and then on the floor. And the ceiling, when Jeice figured out how to make the gravity reverse itself. Then, of course, they had to clean up in the built-in shower room, which somehow didn't get them in the slightest bit clean - though they both got quite wet. Having exhausted the training room's potential, and covered it in cum, they moved to breaking in Yamcha's bed.

All in all, Jeice quite enjoyed himself that afternoon. But the best part was hearing Vegeta's enraged screaming when he finally got done with his meal and a nap.


	5. Chapter 5

Author Notes: It's AU. I changed one little wish just a tiny, tiny bit. Oh, it's also yaoi, although I'm not entirely sure who I'm gonna have screw who. Also, it is entirely off the wall, so the first bit's gonna seem like I don't care if it reads well or not. It's a tad mite jerky, it is. I intend to let it stay that way, because for once, I want something a bit more comedic than my usual dark fare. And simply because I like 'em that way, male Saiyans can and do, have and probably will get pregnant.

********

Zarbon's life was rather boring, but even he admitted that it was a hedonistic boredom. He trained - what warrior wouldn't? - daily, working his way through the forms and katas and dances that he'd been taught. Some of the dances were truly difficult to perform without a partner, but he was both limber and fully capable of using his ki to keep himself stabilized.

A swift scrub invariably preceded the luxurious hot bath, preferably with bubbles, that followed his training. After his soak came the pampering; salts and scrubs, wraps and lotions. He was a skilled cook, and the meals he made for himself were the things of a gourmet's wet dreams.

Of course, he found he needed to masturbate several times a day. He had always been a sensual creature, even in his despised ugly form. He tried not to think of the masturbating he'd done in that form when he pleasured himself, and it wasn't very hard for the slide of silks, satins, or velvets across his sensitive flesh to distract him from anything but the pleasure he enjoyed.

Those were the good days.

On the bad days, he resented what his life had become. He hated being alone. He hated discovering he was carrying on a conversation, a perfectly reasonable conversation about the weather, with a tree or a rock. He hated it more, though, when he went to visit the young Saiyan, and was spurned for talking of his father's people, or offering to teach the boy what Saiyan fighting techniques he knew. Eventually, he gave up going, and got used to talking to trees and rocks.

Zarbon wasn't paying particular attention to the amount of time that went by, at least, not until it snowed. On that particular day, he decided that civilization had a great deal to offer him, and it was about time he got around to looking for a job. So he packed up the capsule house and headed for the nearest large town that did NOT contain Bulma Briefs.

He spent the first day merely wandering through the town, getting a feel for it and where he thought he might like to work. On the second day, he set about inquiring after jobs. And that night, when he settled at his kitchen table to fill out the applications he'd collected, he discovered a rather alarming fact. He could speak the language, but he could neither read nor write in it.

Zarbon found himself quite miffed by the problem, and also quite uncertain how to conquer it. His scouter was long gone, and so were its various translations programs. Worse, the language wasn't remotely similar to any of the many he had had to learn in order to read the various documents he'd handled as one of Frieza's diplomats. He had a truly formidable intelligence, and these… squiggles… eluded him!

He did, on the other hand, still have the credit chip the blue-haired annoyance had given him. That little fact reminded him of itself after he had unraveled his braid and frizzed his hair with his fussing as he tried to puzzle out the language. "Well, then, I shall simply pay to have someone teach me!" he announced to the empty room.

It took him four hours to fix the mess he'd made of his hair. Then, a soothing cup of tea for his jangled nerves. By then, the sun was back up, so he went to find himself a tutor. It occurred to him as he was prowling the marketplace that the information in his scouter hadn't actually been all that thorough, and his hermit-like existence on the planet hadn't prepared him to associate with its people. Finding someone who met his needs might be impossible.

He, along with a good majority of the crowd, turned to see what was going on when a woman's shrill voice rose above the hubbub of chatter that marketplace crowds raised. A slender, dark-haired woman was chasing a teenaged boy holding a purse. Zarbon snorted, moved, tripped the boy, and promptly relieved him of the bag.

"Your purse, madam," he said, presenting it to her with a slight bow.

"Oh! Oh, thank you!" She took it from him, contenting herself that the boy now under Zarbon's foot hadn't taken anything from it. A constable came up and relieved him of the need to continue holding him. "How can I repay your kindness?" the woman asked.

"Well, I am new to this country," which his exotic looks made quite obvious, "and I fear that while I speak the language well, I find myself unable to read nor write in it. Would you know of a tutor I might hire?"

"Chi-Chi Son," the woman replied promptly. "She's taken on a number of tutoring jobs since her husband ran off and left her with a little boy to raise. Poor thing, the boy was kidnapped a few months ago, and she's got no idea if he's even still alive."

"I see." Zarbon considered the advise. "Well, I can see if she has reasonable rates. Could you give me her direction?"

"Sure!" The woman proceeded to do so, and Zarbon made haste in getting away from her. It didn't take him long to realize the directions he'd been given were in the opposite direction that he'd been living, but nearly as remote. He promptly took to the air, and flew until he could see the house. Then he landed and began walking.

"Is anyone home?" he called when he reached the edge of the clearing. E'arth women had an annoying habit of shooting first, and while they couldn't kill him, he'd learned from television that most women had a tendency to aim for the crotch. He was not interested in finding out first hand how much it might sting.

"Who's there?" a woman's voice called.

"My name is Zarbon, madam, and I was told a tutor by the name of Chi-Chi Son lives near here. I was hoping for directions."

"I'm Mrs. Son," she said as she rounded the corner of the house.

Zarbon studied her as he approached. She was slim, yet well-muscled. Her dress was neat, but her apron, filled with what had to be freshly picked vegetables, was somewhat the worse for wear. Her hair was beginning to come out of the tight bun she wore it in. He nodded slightly in satisfaction. "If you have a moment, I would like to discuss my needs and your rates," he returned politely.

She glanced down at her full apron. "Of course, sir. Please, come inside." He held the door for her when her load threatened to topple when she reached for the handle. "Oh, thank you. I'll be a few minutes with the vegetables. If you'll go through that door," a jerk of her head indicated the one she meant, "and make yourself comfortable, I'll be with you as soon as I'm done."

The door lead to a sitting room. It was painfully tidy, just as the kitchen and yard had been. Family pictures adorned the shelves. Zarbon was startled to realize he recognized the child in the photos. Bemused, he sank into one of the seats. When Mrs. Son joined him five minutes later; her hair fixed, her soiled apron changed for a clean one, and her hands and face freshly scrubbed. He rose from the chair he'd taken, and did not resume it until she had seated herself.

"What type of tutoring are you needing?" she asked.

"I am recently arrived to this country, and am unfamiliar with the written language," he explained. "I am looking for someone who will teach me to read and write in the common tongue of the area."

"You? Not your child?" she demanded sharply.

"I have no children," he replied, puzzled. "The woman who recommended you did not say you were unwilling to tutor adults."

"Women and children are not a problem," she explained carefully, "but with my husband gone, I have to be very careful about propriety. If my reputation were ruined, and mothers would not trust me to tutor their children."

"That does present a problem," Zarbon agreed. "Yet, your home is so remote. Who would soil your good reputation with scandalous rumors?"

"Probably the woman who sent you here," Mrs. Son retorted bitterly. "There are several women in town who think that since my husband is gone, I'm after theirs."

"But, I am husband to none of them," Zarbon protested.

"I'm sorry, I real-"

"Gohan is a rather stubborn young man." Zarbon tried another tact. "Perhaps he gets that from you." He winced at his phrasing.

"Gohan? You know my son?"

"He is training with that green man - Piccolo, I believe the name is - in a valley approximately seven hundred miles from here. You were not aware of this?"

"I haven't seen my son for over a year." She deflated. "Tell me, how is he?"

Zarbon considered. "He is quite strong, very agile, and seems to be very bright. He absorbs his lessons from the green one - is his name Pickle or Piccolo? - very quickly, and enjoys playing with the wildlife. It seems he made friends with several of the creatures in the valley."

"He's healthy?"

"Yes." Zarbon paused and considered. "Ma'am, I do have some small concern for the boy."

"What?" She leaned forward sharply, fingers digging into her knees.

"His father," again, Zarbon paused before continuing, "you are aware that he is one of a race of people known as Saiyans?"

"Saiyans?" She frowned. "I don't think he ever mentioned it."

"Perhaps that is why his son is so uninterested in that part of his heritage." Zarbon sighed. "It concerns me because of the health issues that Saiyans are known to have."

"Health issues!?" she shrieked, jumping to her feet. "What do you mean?!"

"Please be calm, madam. Allow me to explain." He waited for her to take her seat. "When I told you that I am recently arrived to this country, it is quite true. I have been in the area less than six months. However, I came to this world only eight, perhaps nine months ago. My own homeworld was destroyed in a galactic war, one which left me as the only known survivor.

"My employer was the one who taught me of my world and my people, but he was not a good or kind creature. He was a megalomaniac determined to rule the universe, and he employed any number of races to do this. Saiyans were a particular favorite because of their aggressive natures and love of fighting - and their transformation."

"Transformation?"

"A tailed Saiyan who sees the full moon will turn into an oozaru. A huge ape," he explained at her lost look. She paled. "Unless properly trained, an oozaru has very little mind or personality, and merely destroys everything and everyone in its path. Frieza found this beneficial. Most Saiyans are unable to recall what happens when they go oozaru."

"Goku… his grandfather was killed by a monster," Mrs. Son said faintly. "Goku said he must've slept through it."

"No doubt he killed the man as an oozaru," Zarbon said gently. "Pickle removed your son's tail when I told him of the possibility. The boy himself has no interest in learning about his father's people."

"You said 'issues', plural." Dark eyes fastened on him. "What other issues are there?"

"Heat," Zarbon replied promptly. "Saiyans are similar to animals in that they go into heat. This happens with the onset of puberty, though delayed if the tail is removed. A Saiyan is capable of reproducing outside of the heat cycle, but they will be more aggressive during a heat. Also, Saiyan males are capable of bearing children."

"Males… bear children? Pregnant men?"

"Yes." Zarbon raised a hand when she opened her mouth. "They also have a bad habit of not appearing to age, particularly between the ages of 20 and 70."

"And Goku? Do you know where my husband is?"

He frowned. "Did that blue-haired woman not call you?"

"Bulma? No, I haven't heard from her for a while. Do you know where Goku is?"

"He was on the planet Namek when it was destroyed. I am sorry." She gasped, and broke into tears. Zarbon fidgeted, then crossed the room and pulled her against his shoulder. "I am very sorry," he soothed.

It was another couple days before she agreed to his persistent, polite requests for tutoring. Finally she agreed, but only if they met in town, in a public place. Zarbon had had to learn languages in worse situations, so agreed to meet her at a teahouse. His first lesson was taught out of the menu, since he couldn't read it. He paid her handsomely for her services, and paid for their tea, as well.

Zarbon made sure he remained polite and charming. Recently widowed women, in his experience, frequently became needy women, and his new tutor wasn't hard on the eyes. Mrs. Son became Chi-Chi after their third meeting. He invited himself back out to her home after a month had passed, and made himself useful chopping wood and hauling water. When he volunteered to deliver a letter to her son, she kissed him.

Zarbon was a very experienced man, as well as being quite clever. By the time he left that evening, she believed he was courting her, and he was rather certain that his little problem would soon be alleviated . Three weeks later, he shared her bed for the first time. The next day, the blue-haired menace called.


	6. Chapter 6

Author Notes: It's AU. I changed one little wish just a tiny, tiny bit. Oh, it's also yaoi, although I'm not entirely sure who I'm gonna have screw who. Also, it is entirely off the wall, so the first bit's gonna seem like I don't care if it reads well or not. It's a tad mite jerky, it is. I intend to let it stay that way, because for once, I want something a bit more comedic than my usual dark fare. And simply because I like 'em that way, male Saiyans can and do, have and probably will get pregnant.

********

"Hello? Oh, Bulma! How are yo… WHAT! Oh! Oh! Oh, yes, of course! I'll be right there!" Zarbon blinked in sleepy bafflement as his lover burst out of the bed and headed for the closet. Dresses went flying, and then she was hurrying out the door. A few minutes later, he could hear the shower running.

Sighing, Zarbon stretched sinuously before sliding out of the bed. He pulled on pants and boots before sitting down to finger-comb the tangles out of his hair. By the time he'd finished and braided the silky mass, Chi-Chi had returned, fully dressed and made-up.

"What's going on?" he asked as he pulled his shirt on.

"Oh. Um…." She looked at him, then scowled. "You'll have to leave. My family's coming home."

"Chi-"

"Mrs. Son, to you. They'll be home this afternoon. I just have to go to Bulma's to pick them up."

"I don't understand."

"They've gathered the dragon balls. My husband and son are coming home. Now, get out."

He left. He'd heard that tone from his tutor too many times to think she didn't mean what she said. He was no longer welcome in her home, and Zarbon was fairly certain the rudimentary education he'd managed was all he would receive from her. One did not tutor one's one-night-stand when one's husband came back from the dead, after all.

He went home. After several minutes of thought, he capsulated the house and headed for Pickles and Gohan. They weren't there when he arrived. "So… was everyone to be informed of the hero's revival but myself?" he murmured quietly. A little annoyed by the thought, he returned to the Briefs' home. Besides, he could liberate a few more capsules while he was there, and maybe tumble Jeice while he was at it.

Zarbon touched down quietly behind the Namekian crowd. Two wishes were made, and the Nameks disappeared. "Yo! Zarbon!" Jeice called, waving to him from the arms of a scarred man. It took Zarbon a moment to place him as Yamcha.

"Jeice," he returned, strolling up to them. "How are you?"

"Great, doing great." The short man reached up and grabbed a handful of hair. Yamcha dipped obligingly, and the ensuing kiss told Zarbon he'd be getting no action from the two of them. "You met Yamcha, right?" Jeice asked when the kiss broke.

"I remember him. Where is Veg… ah, I see him." The cocky prince was standing by Bulma. "Have they mated?"

"Seem to have," Jeice agreed with a grin. "They share the same bedroom."

"Pickle and the boy?"

Jeice burst into peals of laughter while Yamcha struggled to keep a straight face.

"It's Piccolo, and I'm behind you."

"Where is Gohan?"

"I'm right here!" Gohan popped out from behind his mentor's oversized cape. Zarbon smiled and held out his arms, picking the boy up when he ran into them.

"You've grown again," the blue man observed, settling the child on his hip.

"I'm seven now!" Gohan retorted. "Of course I grew!"

"Seven! Why," Zarbon dropped his voice so that only the child would hear, "you're only three years from your first heat!"

Gohan regarded him warily. "Is that something to do with Saiyans? Because I'm not Saiyan. I'm an Earthling."

Zarbon sighed. "You do have your mother's stubbornness."

"Daddy's coming back!"

"Yes, that's what your mother told me." Zarbon looked up as the giant dragon refused to honor the wish made. Gohan let out a little sob, prompting Zarbon to cradle him closer.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S NOT DEAD AND WON'T COME HOME!" Zarbon winced at Chi- - Mrs. Son's screech, and cuddled the sobbing little Saiyan half-breed closer.

"I think I'll take you somewhere else while they have their fight," he murmured as they dragon rumbled back at her. A few instants later, they were miles away, and close to where he had had his house set up. It was only a matter of moments after he landed in the clearing that the house was back up and he was making cocoa for his young guest.

"Doesn't Daddy love me?" the little boy whimpered when Zarbon set the drink in front of him.

"Shh, now!" Zarbon swept the child into his lap. "He can't help being what he is, little one."

"What do you mean by that?"

Zarbon sighed. "Drink your cocoa, please, Gohan. It is a matter that you have told me, repeatedly, that you do not wish to learn about."

"We aren't Saiyan! We're Earthlings!" Gohan insisted.

"Your father was born on the planet Vegeta, home of the Saiyan race. He was deployed to E'arth the same day the planet was destroyed. By the time his brother came to get him, he had lost his memories, acclimated to his adopted world, and started a family. The only reason you are people of E'arth is because your father adopted this world, and you were born here. But your race is that of the Saiyans," Zarbon snapped, "and your father may not have his memories, but he still has the same instincts."

"You're mean!" Gohan tried to wiggle away, but Zarbon had no problem holding him in place.

"A Saiyan child was self-sufficient not long after birth. At most, a child needed only a year of care. You're seven years old, Gohan. Your father's instinct is to feel that his duty to you is done because you are old enough to provide yourself with food and water. The only thing a Saiyan parent of a child your age would be providing now would be shelter, and then only until the first heat! Most Saiyan young are left to fend for themselves from infancy, and are considered part of the adult society when the first heat comes during their tenth year."

The squirming stopped. "Ten-year old adults?" Gohan repeated doubtfully.

"What I know of Saiyans, I know from having been the ambassador to their world, and from having your uncle as my lover. Your uncle was taking care of himself from the time he could walk. His mother never had anything to do with him, and his father basically ignored him until his first heat."

Zarbon held the cocoa in front of the boy. "Drink it before it gets entirely cold," he coaxed. To his relief, the child accepted the cup and started sipping. From the furrows in his brow, however, Zarbon was pretty sure he was about to run the gamut of questions.

Gohan put the cup back on the table, empty. "How old was my uncle Radif when you met him?"

"Raditz was fourteen."

"How old were you?"

Zarbon sighed. "I was twenty-three."

"Did you get him pregnant then?"

"No, he was already pregnant. The boy was the last of his children to survive."

"He had more babies?"

"Yes, but he was a warrior. Most Saiyan males that can bear won't because it interferes with their fighting. Raditz - "

"My uncle killed his babies?!"

"Hush," Zarbon scolded softly. "Raditz was barely fifteen when Frieza destroyed planet Vegeta. He was one of four Saiyans left alive, and the weakest of the three known survivors. You've lived a sheltered life in comparison to your uncle. Your uncle was the plaything of the ship, used by any one, or any group, strong enough to take him down. He lost the majority of his children to those beatings., and the rest due to the starvation diet the Saiyans were kept on between purging missions.

"I had only a faint hope that this child would survive, since he was still bearing when he left on the assignment. I had hoped that the child would be born and abandoned while he was on the mission."

"You wanted him to leave your baby all alone somewhere?" Gohan shrieked.

"Better abandoned somewhere it might live, than born on the ship," Zarbon answered grimly. "Frieza would have ordered it killed and fed to the Saiyans as a punishment for daring to increase their numbers."

"Gross!" Wriggling, as Gohan tried to make himself more comfortable. Zarbon bore it patiently. "Would he really have done that?"

"He would, he told them so. It is part of the reason that Raditz was so relieved whenever he lost a child, and so scared when he learned he'd conceived again. But, I did not find that out for several years."

"How long were you boyfriends?"

Boyfriends. Zarbon chuckled at the innocent term. He had been one of the many who had raped the young Saiyan, and yet the younger man had sought him out and begged for protection that he would pay for with his body. Zarbon had been willing to accept him as a catamite, but it had been a year and a half later, after the youth's heat, that Raditz had come to him, terrified, and confessed to carrying his child. Had confessed about all the children he'd conceived, and lost, due to the rapes and beatings. In three years, the teen had lost ten cubs.

Zarbon stroked the child's hair gently, remembering how appalled he'd been by the number, and how he'd wondered how many of those children had been his own. "As I said, I met him when he was fourteen. He became mine three years later, and was my lover until his death."

"But how long? I don't know how old Uncle Radif was."

"Raditz, not Radif. He was only thirty-nine."

Gohan looked up at him, chewing his lip. "How many cousins don't I have now?"

The question startled Zarbon, and confused him. "I don't understand."

"Mama doesn't have brothers or sisters. Uncle Raditz' babies were my cousins, so how many cousins don't I have?"

This time, Zarbon groaned. The child's only living cousin, unfortunately, was his uncle's last-born son, sired by his grandfather. "He conceived 36 times between the ages of ten and 39."

"And they all died."

"There is no one left to call you cousin," Zarbon temporized.

"But you wanted your baby," Gohan insisted. "Your eyes were crying without tears."

"I am the last of my people," Zarbon explained. "It would have pleased me to have one of my line survive. My children would have been strong, and our races could have continued in them."

Little brows scrunched again beneath the shaggy bangs, and the child chewed furiously on his lower lip. He looked adorable, and Zarbon couldn't help the gentle smile that softened his features. "What are you thinking about so hard?"

"I'm going to have your baby," Gohan declared, giving him a very determined look. "An' you're gonna teach me what I need to know how to do it."


End file.
